


Charcoal

by KiwiBerry



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Forgiveness, Friendship, Hospitals, Regret, insane!castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiBerry/pseuds/KiwiBerry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meg realizes that maybe she shouldn't have volunteered to watch after everyone's favorite angel, especially when he's caught Sam's crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charcoal

Meg never is quiet sure when she realized Castiel was up to something, but the large wings scribbled on the bed, floor, and walls indicate that she was right at some point. When she first notices the charcoal smears she grips the tray she’s holding quite tightly, centuries of angelic fear rising within her like bile, and can only watch as Castiel rubs his blackened hands together nervously, waiting for her to react. When she does move toward him he flinches, and she can’t help but smile. At least she isn’t losing her edge.

Meg carefully places the tray of packaged hospital food on the desk next to Castiel’s bed, before moving to sit in the chair next to his bed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Castiel interrupts quite calmly, twirling a piece of charcoal in his hand before tracing it along a crooked edge on his bed. Meg turns toward the chair to see half of the seat covered in the same chalky residue as the rest of the room. She sighs, running her hand through her hair before taking a seat at the end of the bed instead.

She waits a moment, taking in the path of the hastily drawn wings scrawled from wall to wall. Starting half way up the farthest wall from the door, the wings fall to the floor where they quickly continue sweeping up into the white linens that encase Castiel’s mattress before falling to the floor once again, stopping a few seconds to flow across the lone white chair in the room, and stretching up the opposite wall and over the standard wire covered window that’s placed inside every patients room. The window looks inward, into the loneliness and desolation of the hospitals halls, and makes the room feel more like a prison than a recovery unit. Even Meg admits the place reeks of humanity’s hidden secret; as if the patients within the walls are nothing but mistakes that need to be hidden.

“Reckon that’s about all the charcoal the hospital had.”

Castiel doesn’t look up at the comment, only continues to shade in already blackened sections on his sheets as if they just weren’t dark enough, as if they need to be darker. Meg sighs before moving to pick up a piece of abandoned charcoal and begins running the tip over already colored spots, trying to get the angels attention. Luckily her actions seduce his attention.

“These are my wings,” Castiel states, almost like it’s a question, and Meg nods in acknowledgment.

“That’s right, cupcake, these are your wings,” She replies, hating herself as she takes the time to drag her piece of charcoal down and around a section of individual feathers, as if highlighting them. Castiel watches her before turning back to his own section.

“I lost them.”

Meg looks up at the statement, watching as Castiel stares at his hands, dirtied and dark with the remnants of charcoal and dust. He stares for a while, silent in his endeavor, before letting out an empty scream and smearing his hands across the drawing on his bed, a section of the wing transforming into a jagged, harrowing mess; an imperfection. Meg feels a twinge of fear in her spine, memories of screams and wings all aiming at her, before placing a tentative hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel doesn’t look at her when she does, he only sits still and stares at his bed before picking up the forgotten charcoal, and tracing over the disfigured wing, trying to shape it back into its original form.

“I can fix it,” Castiel states, his hand moving faster and faster as he drags the charcoal across his sheets, “I can get them back.”

Meg closes her eyes, a sense of pity forming inside her, and she squeezes his shoulder reassuringly, “Don’t worry. You’ll get them back.”

Castiel stops what he’s doing and smiles, his hand gently resting over hers, “I miss them.”

Meg shifts slightly on the bed, turning herself toward Castiel before removing her hand, “I know.”

Castiel watches her for a moment, questioning, before returning back to his drawing and Meg takes that as her cue to get up. She picks up the tray next to his bed, knowing that Castiel won’t be eating it anyway, and exits the room. As she walks down the hallway and dumps the uneaten food in a nearby trashcan, she grips the rim with pale knuckles and desperately wishes the Winchesters would come back. She doesn’t know how much longer she can do this.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this: http://22to22.tumblr.com/post/43485719832/reckon-thats-about-all-the-charcoal-the-hospital


End file.
